


Cookie Countdown

by ereshai



Series: The Christmas Cookie Capers [5]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Broken Bones, Christmas Cookies, Cookies, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-06 14:18:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12819357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: Clint and boredom don't mix. What's a guy to do when he's laid up with two broken legs? Bake cookies, of course.





	1. Classic Christmas Sugar Cookie Cutouts & Marshmallow M&M Cookie Bars

 

Phil let himself into the apartment, wondering idly what he would find this time. The bookshelves rearranged by color? The television turned 90 degrees so Clint could watch it while lying on the couch? Clint duct-taped to the wall upside down – again?

Clint and boredom did not mix, and a convalescent Clint was a bored Clint, especially with two broken legs keeping him from getting around as easily as he was used to. It hadn’t been an issue at first, but now he was far enough along in his recovery that he wasn’t sleeping away the day anymore.

Phil didn’t really mind Clint’s shenanigans – nothing had been done that couldn’t be undone – but it was only a matter of time before Clint decided he needed to keep up his aim. To be fair, there would only be _one_ knife hole in the wallpaper, but that was one too many. He made a mental note to order a dartboard.

The TV was off and the couch where Clint had been spending most of his time was empty.

“Clint, I’m home,” he called.

“In the kitchen,” came the reply.

As Phil got closer to the kitchen door, he noticed a lingering scent – vanilla? “Something smells good,” he said as he pushed through the swinging door.

Clint gave him a sheepish smile. “I got an email. A couple of them, actually. With recipes.” He rolled his chair over to the table, which held trays of sugar cookies waiting to be frosted. The counter was covered with more cookies, all of them decorated. Dozens of them. “I used the grocery delivery service.”

“That’s what it’s for,” Phil said absently. “May I?” His hand hovered over a cookie mitten covered in red frosting and little round white candies. Clint nodded hesitantly and Phil picked it up. He ruthlessly suppressed the memory of last year’s cookie debacle and took a bite.

It was perfect, and he told Clint so as he ate the whole thing.

Clint relaxed his tense shoulders. “Okay, good. That’s good. There’s some ah, cookie bar things, too. That recipe was simpler. I mean, even I can’t screw up three ingredients, right? And I figured if the sugar cookies didn’t work out, at least…” He shrugged.

Phil noticed a plate piled high with cookie squares. They were full of M&Ms and covered in dollops of marshmallow. “They look delicious too. So what brought this on?”

“Just needed something to do that wasn’t laying down on the couch.” Clint scooped some green frosting out of a bowl with a knife and spread it on a tree-shaped cookie. “And the recipes didn’t look too hard. I went a little overboard, though.”

“There are a lot of them,” Phil said mildly. He didn’t want to discourage Clint from baking, even if there were more cookies in their kitchen than they could eat in a month. “I could take some in to work with me.”

“No, better not,” Clint said swiftly. “Maybe the neighbors would like some?”

“I’m sure they would.”

After Clint finished frosting the last of the cookies, they divvied them up on paper plates, covered them in plastic wrap, and piled them in a box. Then, with the box perched on Clint’s lap, they made their way through the building, handing out a plate or two to everyone who answered their doors.

By the time they got back to their apartment, there were only a couple of plates left and Clint was stifling yawns every few minutes.

“Couch,” Phil said sternly. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you when it’s supper time.”

“Should clean up my mess,” Clint said, but he transferred himself to the couch and settled in, his eyes already half-closed.

“I think I can handle it,” Phil told him, running a hand through his hair. “Rest.”

“’kay,” Clint mumbled. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Phil replied, but Clint was already asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Feelstide is no more *sniffle*, the Christmas Cookie Capers series is going out with a bang. So here's a WIP based on the cookie recipe emails that I will be receiving each day. Will I keep up with the chapter a day schedule? We shall see.  
> Chapter 1: The Classic Christmas Sugar Cookie Cutouts recipe came from BettyCrocker.com and the 3-Ingredient Marshmallow M&M Cookie Bars recipe came from Pillsbury.com.


	2. Russian Tea Cake Bars & Almond Sparkle Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint has an unexpected visitor.

 

Powdered sugar was everywhere. Clint wasn’t sure how it had happened; he’d measured it out carefully for the glaze, he’d put some in a bowl to roll the cookie dough in it, and then done it again, carefully. Everything felt slightly sticky.

The front door opened and closed. Phil was home early. “In the kitchen,” he called. He licked his lips – they tasted sweet. Clint wasn’t sure about these Russian tea cakes, but Phil would love them. His ability to eat powdered donuts without getting sugar everywhere would probably extend to them, too.

He felt more than heard the kitchen door swing shut. He turned, a greeting on his lips, to find Natasha standing right next to him.

His flinch was imperceptible, but Natasha smirked. “Hi.”

“Hey. What’s up?” He rolled another tea cake in the sugar.

“You baked cookies. They don’t suck.” She took in all the cookies and accompanying mess.

“How-?”

“Phil had some in his office.” She picked up one of the glazed almond sparkle cookies and examined it, then took a bite. “These are good too,” she said as she chewed.

“I had some left over dough from yesterday,” he mumbled. He hadn’t; the recipe had called for a tube of refrigerated sugar cookie dough, but that felt like cheating after making it from scratch the day before.

“What are these?” She took another bite of her cookie and waved her hand at the powdered sugar-covered squares he had set aside.

“That was the other recipe that came in my email. Russian tea cake bars. ‘A tasty new twist on a Christmas classic.’”

Natasha sniffed. “Not enough sugar. I see you made the real thing, though.”

“Not much point in putting a twist on a classic recipe I never made before.” He rolled the last cookie in sugar and set it with the others. His fingers were caked white.

“Three recipes in one day? You must be really bored.” Natasha popped the last of the cookie in her mouth and brushed the crumbs off her hands. “Taste test.” She gingerly picked up one of the tea cakes between her thumb and forefinger.

“You’re still eating your first one.” He wiped his hands on a towel, which only got rid of some of the excess sugar.

“Uh-huh.” She swallowed, then popped the cookie ball in her mouth. “Id’s g’d.”

Clint stared at her. “You feeling okay?”

“Of course. Where’s your tupperware? I’m taking these home.” She started searching the cupboards.

“What, all of them?” He rolled over to the sink and turned on the faucet. This time, he remembered to set the brake before he levered himself out of the chair, bracing his weight on the counter with his forearms. It was an awkward way to wash his hands, but he made it work.

“As many as I can fit into this,” Natasha replied, holding up a large plastic container. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave a few for you and Phil.” She began filling the container.

“Toss me a clean towel, would you?” The towel hit him on the side of the head and fell neatly onto his shoulder. “Thanks.”

By the time he dried off and got back into the wheelchair, Natasha’s container was full. She had even taken a few of the almond sparkle cookies. True to her word, there were a few of Russian tea cakes left, as well as the entire tray of tea cake bars.

“You should let Phil take some cookies to share at SHIELD. Jasper ate half his stash. He wanted to know where Phil bought them.” She put the lid on the container, pressing it at the corners to keep from crushing any of her cookies.

“I don’t think-“

“Phil doesn’t have to tell anybody you made them. At least not right away. Although hopefully some of them will figure it out on their own.”

“After last year-“

“Last year is exactly why you should do it.” She tucked the cookies under her arm.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I know you, Clint. Three recipes in one day, and you’re just getting started. You and Phil and your neighbors can only eat so many cookies. SHIELD is a big place; you should share the love.”

“Fine. You can go now.” He scowled at her and she smiled fondly at him.

“Thanks for the cookies,” she said as she walked out the door.

“Don’t eat them all tonight,” he called after her.

“I’ll just make you bake more for me.” The front door closed and she was gone.

Clint smiled and shook his head. Then he started stacking the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He wasn’t going to make Phil clean up after him two nights in a row.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: The Russian tea cake bars are from BettyCrocker.com and the almond sparkle cookies are from Pillsbury.com.


	3. Cinnamon Mexican Wedding Cakes & Confetti Cake-Mix Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint suffers a mild Disappointment.

 

Phil walked through the kitchen door and stopped abruptly, letting it swing shut behind him. Clint was slumped over the kitchen table, his head resting on his arms. “Clint?”

Clint lifted his head and gave Phil a bleary smile. “Hey Phil.” There were streaks of powdered sugar on his face.

“Why are you sleeping on the kitchen table? We have a bed for that sort of thing.” There were cookies stacked on plates all over the counter, though not as many as Phil had been expecting.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Clint rubbed his hand over his face, grimacing when he noticed the sugar. He tried to brush it off. “Just resting. It was a long day.”

“How was your appointment? What did the doctor say?”

“They want me in full casts a little longer.” Clint heaved a sigh.

“I see. You made more Russian tea cakes?” Phil plucked one off a plate and took a bite.

“Those are Mexican wedding cakes,” Clint said sourly.

“Oh? What’s the difference?” Phil ate the rest of the little cake – it didn’t taste exactly the same, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“The name,” Clint grumbled. “And there’s cinnamon in these. Anyway, I cheated and used the refrigerated cookie dough this time.”

“That’s not cheating. You were bound to get a duplicate recipe eventually.”

“I know.” Clint was still scowling.

“They still taste good. What about these?” Phil gestured at the more traditional looking cookies. “They don’t look like sugar cookies, at least.”

“Nah. Confetti cake-mix cookies.” Clint crossed his arms over his chest and clenched his jaw.

“Something wrong?”

Clint mumbled something about cheating that Phil didn’t quite catch.

“Hey,” he said, going over to crouch by Clint’s chair. “Hey, listen to me. Shortcuts aren’t cheating, okay?”

Clint nodded.

“Anyway, it’s probably a good thing you had a couple of easier recipes today.”

Clint nodded again and unfolded his arms.

“And you don’t _have_ to bake a damn thing. You know that, right?”

“No, but I’m going to,” Clint said mulishly.

“Okay,” Phil answered mildly. “But you can leave the dirty dishes for me to do if you need to, understand?”

“All right.” Clint stared at the far wall, and then he let out a sudden laugh and shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, I’m being a stubborn fucking idiot.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

Clint snorted. He took Phil’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Welcome home, dear. How was your day?”

Phil squeezed back, then rose to his feet, leaning forward to give Clint a quick kiss as he did. “Just peachy, darling.”

Clint laughed.

“How about a rest before supper?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Clint rolled toward the door. Phil went ahead of him and held it open. “Your cookies were a hit, by the way,” he said. “They were gone by lunch.”

“Cool,” Clint said with a smile. “And nobody suspected I made them?”

“I don’t think anybody even realized I was the one who brought them. Your secret is safe.”

“Yes, but for how long?” Clint said dramatically. He hoisted himself out of the chair and onto the couch. “Where’s the remote?”

Phil grabbed it off the coffee table and tossed it at Clint’s head. “Here. I found it in the couch cushions this morning. Again.”

Clint snatched the remote out of the air. “Weird. I wonder how that happened.”

“I wonder.” Phil moved the wheelchair out of the way, placing it at the end of the couch where Clint could easily grab it. “I’m going to change, then we’re ordering in. Think about what you want.”

Clint wiggled into a comfortable position. “You got it, boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: The Cinnamon Mexican Wedding Cakes are from Pillsbury.com and the Confetti cake-mix cookies are from BettyCrocker.com  
> I knew it was only a matter of time before I got a repeat recipe, but I wasn't expecting it so soon.


	4. Brown Sugar Crackle Cookies & Butter Pecan Pretzel Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sitwell pops in.

 

Clint was just putting the latest batch of cookies on the cooling rack when the kitchen door opened.

“Aha!” That wasn’t Phil.

Clint flung the spatula behind him, then quickly followed it with one of the knives he had sheathed in his cast.

There was an “Ow!” followed by the thud of the knife embedding itself in the door frame.

“What the fuck, Barton?” Sitwell demanded.

Clint turned to face him. Sitwell was rubbing his forehead. “Jasper.” Clint folded his arms.

“You could have killed me.” Sitwell yanked the knife out of the wood and tossed it back to him.

“Only if I was aiming at you,” Clint said as he caught the knife handily. He slipped it back into his cast. “Try knocking next time.”

“I have a key.”

“Knock anyway.” Clint grabbed another spatula from the drawer and finished transferring the cookies from the baking tray.

“Like I said, aha!” Sitwell joined him at the counter. “You’re the mystery baker.”

“Why are you here, Jasper?”

Sitwell picked up a cookie. “Phil got sent on a last-minute thing. Communication blackout. I thought I’d come and let you know.” He took a bite. “This is good. Who knew you had it in you?”

“Hey, did you know there are these things called telephones? They let you talk to people who are far away. Miracle of modern technology.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you for a while. I thought I’d check in.” Sitwell finished his cookie and took another one. “What are these? I like them.”

“Brown sugar crackle cookies. And you just wanted to snoop.” Clint tossed the tray and the spatula in the sink, then went to retrieve the one he’d thrown at Sitwell.

“Guilty.” Sitwell picked up Clint’s tablet. “Send me a link to this recipe, would you?”

“Fine.” Clint waited, but Sitwell just flicked at the tablet’s screen, scrolling through the page.

“A lot of these look really good,” he said. “How do you resist making them?”

“I’m not going down that rabbit hole; I’m not _that_ bored. Why are you still here?”

“I’m not done snooping.” Sitwell tapped the screen. “Oooh, what’s this? Did you make these, too?” He tilted the screen so Clint could see the recipe for the butter pecan pretzel bars he’d made earlier.

“Yeah, they’re in the fridge.”

“I love how it specifies that the caramels should be unwrapped. It’s like they wrote it just for you.”

“Okay, time to go before I actually throw a knife at you.”

“But I need to try your pretzel bar things.” Sitwell put the tablet down and went to the fridge.

“Who says you get to?” Despite his words, Clint didn’t make a move to stop Sitwell from taking out the container of bars.

“It’s my price for not telling everyone you’re the mystery baker.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Blackmail, really?”

“Blackmail is such an ugly… Okay, fine. No, not really. Everyone else can figure it out like I did. But I really want to try these. Please?”

Sitwell’s puppy dog eyes were a sight to behold; Clint had to hold back a laugh.

“If I let you take that whole thing, will you leave?”

Sitwell clutched the container to his chest. “I’m already gone.” He left without another word, only to pop back through the door. “Phil’s going to be gone for a few days, minimum. Probably not more than a week.” He left again, the stuck his head back in. “I’ll come by in the morning to pick up the cookies for work. It’s what Phil would want.”

“Good- _bye_ , Jasper.”

“Bye,” came his muffled reply. Then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4: Brown sugar crackle cookies - BettyCrocker.com and butter pecan pretzel bars - Pillsbury.com
> 
> Sorry for the late chapter - I fell asleep instead of writing. I still plan to post Chapter 5 tonight.


	5. Baklava Cheesecake Bars & Easy Ritz Toffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint misses Phil.

 

Clint supposed there were only so many cookie recipes out there, especially ones that fit a Christmas theme (not that some of the recipes had come close to being Christmassy or even something he considered cookies), but this recipe barely seemed to fit either category. Crackers in toffee? He wasn’t too sure about that.

“When in doubt, red and green sprinkle the shit out of it,” he muttered. He’d ordered the Ritz crackers that were kinda snowflake-shaped, at least.

The toffee went into the fridge next to the baklava cheesecake abomination he’d made earlier. Clint had eaten baklava in many different countries – this was not baklava. Someone would eat it, just not him. At least it was somewhat Christmassy?

Clint was cranky and he knew it. He wanted to bitch about the not-cookies cracker toffee and the not-baklava to Phil. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since Sitwell had picked up the cookies that morning. Normally Clint was fine being by himself, but he preferred it when his solitude was by his own choice and not forced on him by two fucking broken legs and his boyfriend getting sent away for work and not being able to even fucking talk to him on the fucking phone…

Yeah, cranky.

Maybe he’d roll himself around the neighborhood for a while tomorrow.

Maybe he’d get Sitwell to take him in to HQ. Clint technically wasn’t supposed to be working, but there had to be something he could do. He’d even do paperwork.

Maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time around - Clint was getting too mopey.
> 
> Chapter 5: Baklava cheesecake bars - Pillsbury.com and Easy Ritz Toffee - BettyCrocker.com
> 
> (The views expressed by the characters do not reflect the views of the author. I have nothing against the baklava cheesecake thing - I'd be willing to try it, at least.)


	6. Italian Christmas Cookies & Cookie Dough Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint is pulled out of his moping.

 

Clint was draped along the couch, his head hanging over the arm, when someone knocked on the door. Before he could even begin to start getting up, he heard a key in the lock and the door opened to reveal Maria Hill.

“At least you knocked,” he said with a sigh.

She gave him a critical once-over. “At least you’re not laying around in your underwear.”

“You walk into my apartment uninvited, you take your chances. Does everyone at SHIELD have a key to our place?”

“No. I thought you might appreciate not having to answer the door, but apparently not. Sitwell says you asked to come in to work.”

“He laughed in my face.” Clint flung his arm over said face.

“That’s what happens when you say you want to do paperwork. You’re lucky he didn’t call in a code M.”

“I’m not a pod person.”

“Sitwell seems to agree, which is why you’re getting a visit from me and not a STRIKE team. Are you getting bored with the baking already?”

Clint lifted his arm to look at her. “Jasper told you.”

“I figured it out. Although I did think it was Phil at first.”

Clint grunted. “I’m not bored. You took my Phil away.”

“You’re acting like a child. Let’s go.”

“What?”

“Get up. You’ve been cleared for limited range time.”

Clint struggled to sit up. “What? You got me range time?”

“Limited is the key word here. Get dressed.”

Clint pulled his chair into position and scrambled into it, almost falling over in his haste to get to the bedroom. “Have a cookie,” he called over his shoulder. “They’re stacked on the counter in the kitchen.”

When Clint came back out, Hill was nowhere to be seen, so he headed into the kitchen.

Hill had a little round iced cookie in her hand, examining it closely. “What is this? One of those truffle things?”

“Nah, it’s an Italian Christmas cookie. They’re healthy.” Hill threw him a disbelieving look. “I swear. It’s got ricotta cheese in it.”

“And a pound of sugar, I’m sure.” She popped the whole thing in her mouth.

“Only half a pound. I made these too.” Clint rolled over to the fridge and pulled out one of the cookie containers. He’d have to ask Jasper to bring back the other ones – he was starting to run out of things to put the cookies in.

He handed the container to Hill. She opened it and her eyes lit up. “Is that chocolate chip cookie dough on top?”

“Sort of? It’s the safe to eat kind. Cookie dough bites, they’re called.”

Hill took one out, then put it back in and closed the lid. “I’m taking all of these. Let’s go.”

“Fine, cookie thief. Should we bring the rest to HQ?” Clint gestured at the stacks of containers on the counter.

“I don’t want to deal with transporting them. Sitwell can do it in the morning.” Hill left the kitchen, holding the door open for Clint to follow.

“Good idea. He’d probably pout if he didn’t get first crack at them anyway.”

Hill shook her head. “Grab your coat. I don’t have all day.”

Clint gave her a snappy salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 - Italian Christmas cookies - BettyCrocker.com and cookie dough bites - Pillsbury.com
> 
> I'm starting to fall behind! I am determined to keep up with this, so Chapter 7 should be up tonight as planned.


	7. Rolo-Filled Chocolate Cookies & Easy Christmas Tree Cookie Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint has visitors with an ulterior motive.

 

Clint was just heading into the kitchen to get a quick snack when someone knocked on the door. He waited, but whoever it was didn’t let themselves in.

“Coming,” he called, and turned his chair around. When he opened the door, he found Melinda May and her husband, Dr. Andrew Garner, waiting on the other side.

“Hello, Clint,” Andrew said.

“Hey.” Clint pushed the door open wider and backed away to let them enter. “Checking up on me?”

“Andrew is. I’m here for the cookies,” May said as they walked in.

“Actually, I _was_ here to check on you, but now that I know there are cookies…” Andrew said with a laugh.

“Does everyone know I’m baking the damn things?” Clint wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“I didn’t,” Andrew said.

May shrugged and tilted her head at her husband. “Apparently not.”

“I guess as long as nobody’s gunning for me because they broke a tooth trying to eat one, it doesn’t matter if they all know.”

“The more people who know a secret, the harder it is to keep it quiet. We may be a covert agency, but-“

“But SHIELD is a hotbed of gossip, like any office.” Clint sighed. “They’re in the kitchen, help yourselves.”

May and Andrew exchanged glances, then May went into the kitchen, leaving Andrew and Clint alone together.

Clint folded his arms across his chest. “You on the clock, Doc?”

Andrew smiled. “This isn’t an official visit. I just thought I’d see how you’re doing.”

Clint nodded warily.

“How are you feeling?” Andrew gestured at Clint’s casts as he perched on the arm of the couch.

“Itchy.”

“You know, I think we have something that might help at home, from the last time Me-“

“I have a thing.” Clint waved vaguely at the room. “Thanks anyway.”

“You know, I meant it when I said this wasn’t an official visit.”

“Uh-huh. So yesterday Hill stops by and today you just happen to show up. What, is she ‘concerned’ about my mental state or something?”

“Actually, Mel wanted to come. Possibly for the cookies, possibly because Phil’s gone, but that’s just speculation. She does care about you; we both do.”

Clint slumped in his chair. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“So as one friend to another, how are you doing? Cabin fever setting in yet?”

“Kinda.” Clint rubbed the back of his neck. “I got to go in for some target shooting yesterday, so that helped.”

“I’m glad. I know that’s important to you.”

“Hill arranged it,” Clint mumbled. “It wasn’t so bad at first, when I was sleeping most of the day,” he added more audibly.

“Healing takes a lot of energy.”

“But now I’m kinda stuck here, and I can only do so much baking before I start thinking about how far they’ll go if I chuck the cookies out the window, you know?”

Andrew chuckled and nodded. “And Phil’s not here to help you get around.”

Clint shrugged. “It’s not just the getting around part. Yeah, I miss Phil, but it’s more that I…” He trailed off and shook his head.

“You need human interaction?”

“Yeah.” Clint was mumbling again; this was starting to feel too much like one of their sessions.

“You know you’re allowed to ask for help, right? Not just in a professional capacity, and not just from me.”

“Sure.”

“That part’s up to you, then.” Andrew stood up. “All right, how about some cookies?”

Just then, the kitchen door swung open and May walked out holding triangular cookie on a pretzel stick. It was decorated like a Christmas tree. In her other hand she held a couple of round chocolate cookies.

“Here you go.” She handed the chocolate cookies to Andrew and took a bite of the tree cookie.

“Thank you. This looks delicious,” Andrew told Clint. He took a bite of one, then put a hand up to his mouth.

“Shit, did you break a tooth? They shouldn’t be hard, they only have Rolo candies in them.”

Andrew winced and shook his head. “Sorry,” he said as he chewed and swallowed the bite grimly. “I just wasn’t expecting the caramel.”

May put a hand on his arm. “Andrew, I didn’t realize-“

“Is he allergic?” Clint demanded. He turned to Andrew. “Are you allergic?”

“No, no. I’m fine. I just really don’t like caramel.” Andrew held the cookies away from his body, as if they might jump into his mouth, and looked around for a place to put them. “Sorry, I don’t usually overreact like that. I was surprised.”

“Here.” May held out her hand and Andrew gave her the cookies. She took them back into the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Clint said with a grimace. “I should have-“

“You didn’t know,” Andrew reassured him. “It’s not something that usually comes up. It’s a personal preference, after all, not something that could make me sick.”

Clint nodded and May came back out of the kitchen. She was holding a glass of water and another of the Christmas tree cookies. “To get rid of the taste,” she said. “There’s no caramel in these.”

Andrew thanked her and drank the water quickly. When he was done, Clint said, “I’ll take that,” and held his hand out for the glass.

“They did look really good,” Andrew said as he relinquished the glass. “And so does this.” He indicated the new cookie May had brought for him.

Clint scrubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t even think of allergies and stuff. What if someone ate something they're allergic to?”

“Phil and Jasper have been labeling them,” May told him.

There was an awkward silence, then May turned to Andrew. “We should head out.”

Andrew took a bite of the cookie. “This is excellent,” he said through his mouthful. “But Mel’s right, we have to go.”

Clint waved them off. May started to leave, then turned back and said, “Not everyone knows you’re baking the cookies. It’s mostly senior staff.”

Clint shrugged. “It won’t be long before everyone figures it out.”

“I’m sure you have your reasons for keeping it a secret, but you should consider telling people. This isn’t like last year at all.”

“Maybe when Phil gets back.” Clint nodded toward the door. “You’d better get going. Doc’s waiting.”

May gave him a searching look, then nodded and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rolo filled chocolate cookies - Pillsbury.com  
> Easy Christmas tree cookie bars - BettyCrocker.com
> 
> I have fallen behind, as I suspected I would, but I'm going to try to catch up over the next few days. In the meantime, have a slightly longer than usual chapter.


	8. Brown Butter Snickerdoodles & Chocolate Truffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint actually asks for help when he needs it.

 

Clint rolled the ball of cookie dough in the cinnamon sugar mixture and thought about what Andrew had said to him the day before. He did have friends who would help if he asked – he’d lost sight of that, feeling sorry for himself because he couldn’t get around as easily as he used to. He couldn’t go to them, but that didn’t mean nobody would come to him. They already had been. SHIELD wasn’t like the circus, or his family; he had people he could count on now.

Clint rinsed off his hands and pulled out his phone. He wasn’t feeling particularly bad at the moment, but he thought he might as well practice asking for help before he really needed it. There was someone he could call right now.

“Hey, it’s Clint,” he said when Bobbi answered her phone. “I’m feeling kinda cooped up here. Wanna come over?”

By the time she arrived (he’d left the door unlocked so she could walk right in), the snickerdoodles were cooling on racks and he had taken the truffles out of the freezer to dip them in melted chocolate.

“Wow,” Bobbi said when she got a look at the cookie-covered counters. “Are you trying to feed an army?” She crossed the kitchen and dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head.

“Just part of one, I guess. Wanna help?”

“Sure. Do you need me to reach anything on a high shelf? Should I hand you things, like a nurse in an operating room? Critique the fruits of your labor?”

“Dip these in chocolate with me?” Clint lifted the tray of truffles.

Bobbi made a face. “How? With our fingers? That seems…messy. And unhygienic.”

“Nah, I looked it up. We’ll use a couple of forks. It lets the extra chocolate drip off easier or something.”

“Okay, let’s do this.”

They took turns dipping and rolling the truffles in the pot full of chocolate and placing them on waxed paper to harden.

“So,” Bobbi said eventually. “How’s things with Phil?”

“Good. Really good.” Clint snuck a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “How’s things with you and Hunter?”

Bobbi hmmed. “Fine,” she said with a shrug.

Clint nodded and went back to dipping.

“Is that why you asked me to come over?” she asked suddenly. “Are you checking up on my relationship?”

“No.” The word came out a little too firmly and he rushed on. “I mean, that’s none of my business. I always thought if you wanted to talk to me about that stuff, you’d say something.”

“Like that wouldn’t be awkward as hell,” Bobbi said with a laugh.

Clint reached out touched her shoulder gently. “As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters, got it?”

She smiled. “Got it. And we’re done talking about it, okay?”

“Sure.”

A dozen or so truffles later, Bobbi asked, “So why did you call? Just so I could do this?”

Clint shrugged. “Not really.” She gave him a look and he hurried to add, “It’s nothing bad. I was, um… practicing?”

“Practicing what?”

“Asking my friends for help when I need it,” he mumbled.

She was silent for a long time. “Thanks,” she finally said in a low voice.

“Huh?”

“For coming to me when you needed help. I wasn’t sure we’d ever get back to that level of friendship.” She wasn’t looking at him.

“Oh.” He was stumped – he’d been feeling pretty selfish for calling her. “Honestly, I thought we had. I didn’t even think… Sorry?”

She laughed and bent down to hug him. “Don’t apologize, idiot. Glad to see you’re still mostly oblivious about other people. All of this maturity and talking about feelings almost made me think you’d been replaced by a pod person.”

Clint groaned. “Not you too.”

“Me too what?”

They finished the truffles while Clint told her about Sitwell and Hill and their reaction to his half-serious offer to do paperwork.

“I don’t blame them,” Bobbi said. She looked at the rows of truffles. “Now what?”

Clint consulted his tablet. “Um, the brown butter to put on top of the snickerdoodles.”

“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.” She peeled a truffle off of the waxed paper and bit it in half. “Mmmm, this‘s good.”

“It’s made with sugar,” he replied absently. “The brown butter, I mean.”

It took hardly any time to mix together the ingredients. They were almost done frosting the cookies when they heard the front door open. They both reached for a weapon.

“Clint, I’m home.”

Clint dropped the butter knife in the bowl of brown butter and shoved his throwing knife back in its sheath. He was rolling toward the door when it opened and there was Phil, tired and smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brown butter snickerdoodles - Pillsbury.com  
> Chocolate truffles - BettyCrocker.com
> 
> I am doing the opposite of catching up, but I refuse to give up!


	9. White Chocolate-Cranberry Cookies, Salted Caramel Thumbprints, Santa Heart-Shaped Cookies, Triple-Layer Truffle Bars, Christmas Swirl Fudge, & Raspberry Cheesecake Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a shitload of cookies.

 

Phil handed the box of cookie-filled tins to Clint and closed the trunk of his car. “Ready?” he asked as he grabbed the handles of Clint’s wheelchair. At home, Clint had graduated to swinging around on crutches – and pulling off a few moves he’d seen at a Cirque du Soleil show – but he still used the chair for going out and about. Today, they were bringing Clint’s cookies to HQ and Clint was going to reveal himself as the Mystery Baker. Phil had vetoed the mask idea; they didn’t have enough time to make a good one.

“Let’s do this.” Despite Phil’s reassurances, Clint was still nervous about how everyone would take the news that he had baked the cookies.

They didn’t run into anybody they knew personally until they reached the floor where Phil’s office was located. The elevator doors opened and there stood Felix Blake. As soon as he saw them, he frowned. Phil almost had to shove him out of the way to get them both off the elevator before the doors closed.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Blake said. “You’d better have a shitload of cookies with you.”

“What?” Clint sounded shocked and Phil tried not to laugh.

“Cookies,” Blake repeated. “It’s been more than two weeks. Christmas is right around the corner, and you stopped sending cookies. Don’t be surprised if someone tries to re-break your legs.”

“They can try,” Clint said with a scowl. He clutched the box of cookies tighter. “Anyway, I was busy.”

Blake looked between Clint and Phil and raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, busy. So… cookies? It looks like you have some there.” He pointed at Clint’s box. “What’d you bring?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Phil said. He pushed Clint’s chair past Blake and steered them toward the lounge.

There were a couple of agents there already, drinking coffee. They perked up when they saw Clint and Phil.

“Cookies?” they asked in unison.

Clint swore under his breath. “Does everyone know it was me?”

“On this floor, yeah,” Blake said. “Now cough up the goods.”

Clint glared, but Phil put a hand on his shoulder and winked. “Sure,” he said. He took a few of the tins out of the box and placed them on the table where the agents were waiting.

Blake rubbed his hands together. “What do we have here?” he asked as one of them opened a tin.

“White chocolate-cranberry cookie bars,” Clint said. He was carefully examining the remaining tins in the box.

“Not bad. Got anything else?” Blake asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“Yes,” Phil said. “Okay, now we’re off to the junior agents’ break room.”

Clint gave him a swift look – the original plan had been to leave everything in the senior agents’ lounge, and then deliver a couple of tins to Fury and Hill. He nodded. “We’re good here. Let’s go.”

“Wait, you have different kinds? Why not just leave them here?” Blake had been reaching for another cookie, but stopped.

“You’re welcome to go to the junior agents’ break room and try one of their cookies, I’m sure,” Phil said.

“Gotta spread the love, Blake,” Clint added.

Blake followed them to the junior agents’ break room, where he grabbed a salted caramel thumbprint cookie almost before the tin hit the table.

“Anything else?”

“Of course,” Clint said.

“Next stop, the labs,” Phil announced.

Blake followed them there, too, along with one intrepid junior agent. Both of them snatched up a couple of Santa heart-shaped cookies.

“How’d you have time to do all this, Barton?” Blake asked.

“I’ve got nothing but time,” Clint told him. “And Phil helped.”

Blake looked into the cookie box and sighed. “I’m guessing there’s more.”

“You guess right,” Phil said.

“And I’m guessing you’re going to make me follow you to wherever you’re going next to get whatever’s in there.”

“No wonder you’re a senior agent, Blake,” Clint said. “Your powers of logic are astounding.”

Phil grinned. “On to Admin.”

Along the way, they picked up another couple of stragglers, prompting Blake to mutter something about a cookie parade. When they reached Admin, he only managed to get one triple-layer truffle bar before everyone else descended on them like locusts. Clint had to promise the recipe to three people before they left.

Word had spread, and by the time they reached Accounting, they really were leading a parade. The Christmas swirl fudge didn’t last long there.

Blake grumbled while he ate his small square. “How many more stops? Two? Three? Seven? I have things to do today.”

“You’re free to go about your day,” Phil said drily.

“Right.” Blake glared and ate his fudge.

At the next stop – Medical, raspberry cheesecake bars, there may have been tears of joy – Phil finally took pity on Blake and the rest of the parade and announced, “This is our last stop.”

Unfortunately, it took the magic words “Those are for Director Fury” to keep people from trying to grab the remaining tins out of the box and the further magic words “and AD Hill” to get them to disperse.

“That was so worth it,” Clint told Phil as Blake sauntered away.

“Agreed.” Phil bent down and gave Clint a brief kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting a chapter a day as planned. Now I'm going to try to catch up. Expect multi-cookie chapters from now on. Maybe this installment will end up as silly as the previous ones after all, lol  
> BettyCrocker.com - White chocolate-cranberry cookie bars, Santa heart-shaped cookies, & 3-ingredient Christmas swirl fudge  
> Pillsbury.com - Salted caramel thumprints, triple-layer truffle bars, & raspberry cheesecake bars


	10. Peanut Butter Blossoms, Sugar Cookie Truffles, Marbled Sugar Cookie Cutouts, Triple Chocolate Thumbprints, Double Chocolate Nutella Cookie Truffles, & Melted Snowmen Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint loses his cookies

Clint waited as the driver put the ramp into place, then rolled out of the taxi and onto the patterned brick courtyard in front of HQ. The driver brought him the box of cookies from the back and Clint set it on his lap.

“Thanks, man,” he said.

“Want some help?” The driver looked between Clint, the box, and the wide open space between them and the front entrance, complete with inspirational abstract sculpture standing directly in his path.

“Better not. Security’s pretty tight.” It would be slow going – he’d discovered that the box tended to shift too much the faster he went – but it was doable.

The driver nodded. “What is this place, anyway? I always wondered.”

“Accounting firm.” Worst cover story ever. “We have a lot of high profile clients. Very exclusive.”

“Oh.” The driver perked up. “You ever met, like, Beyoncé?”

“Can’t talk about that, man,” Clint said with a wink.

“Oh, right. Gotcha.”

After a few more pleasantries, the taxi driver finally left and Clint made his way across the courtyard. The front doors opened as he approached and then he was in the security zone.

“Secured identity card, please,” said the voice over the intercom.

Clint pulled his card out of his jacket pocket and flashed it at the scanner. There was a beep, then a hum and a hiss, and the inner doors opened.

“Agent Barton, how are you this fine day?” Standing on the other side at a small podium was one of the Koenigs, an affable smile on his face. Clint had heard they were LMDs and that there was one for each letter of the alphabet, but Clint wasn’t sure he bought that. There was no way Fury would tip his hand if he really had an army of Koenigs stashed somewhere.

“Doing fine on this fine day, Agent Koenig.”

Billy – Clint was pretty sure this was Billy – lifted his hand from the podium and gave him a real smile. The Koenigs were really strict about security protocols, which sometimes drove Clint – and everyone else – up the wall, but since they had stopped more than one infiltration attempt, nobody actually complained.

“It looks like you’ve brought more cookies today,” Billy said. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Yeah. Can’t eat ‘em all by myself, you know?”

The security office door opened and another Koenig stepped out, dressed identically to his brother. “Did I hear something about cookies?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Clint repeated. “You guys want some?” He stuffed his security card in his jacket and reached for a tin.

“You know, I have suggested more than once that we use lanyards for our security cards.”

That had to be Eric. Everyone knew Eric had a bug up his butt about lanyards.

“I agree, they would be easier to use,” Billy said.

“Lanyards again? Hey, are those the famous Hawkeye cookies I’ve been hearing about?” Another Koenig. Sam, unless Clint had completely misidentified the other two. Where had he even come from?

Clint opened the tin and held it out. “You’ve got some options. I’ve got peanut butter blossoms-“

“A classic,” Sam said.

“And triple chocolate thumbprint cookies-“

“Sure to please chocolate-lovers,” Billy said.

“Sugar cookie truffles and double chocolate Nutella cookie truffles-“

“How could anyone decide which one to try first?” Eric said.

“And marbled sugar cookie cutouts and melted snowman cookies,” Clint finished in a rush.

“They sound delicious,” all three Koenigs said at once.

Clint held out the tin. Billy, Eric, and Sam stared at it. Then they all began to move at once.

Eric took the tin and placed it on the podium. “That’ll be a nice treat for everyone’s shift.”

Sam reached for the box on Clint’s lap. “And we’ll distribute the rest for you,” he said.

“Wait.” Clint pulled out one of the tins. “This one’s for Phil.”

“We’ll let you deliver that one yourself,” Billy said. He was stacking tins in his arms.

Then Eric and Sam were gone and Billy was at the podium again, a cookie in his hand.

“Delicious,” he said. “Have a nice day.” He hit a button and the second set of inner doors opened.

Clint nodded and left. It only took him a few minutes to reach Phil’s office – despite the number of people he passed on the way, no one stopped to talk to him, though there were speculative glances at the cookies in his lap.

“People may come here looking for cookies. I’m not sure yet,” he said to Phil as he entered the office.

“What?” Phil looked up from his paperwork, a small puzzled smile on his face.

Clint placed the cookies on the corner of the desk. “Guard these with your life. They might be a hot commodity today.”

“What are you talking about? What happened to the rest of the cookies?” Phil paused. “Is the apartment still standing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t burn down the kitchen or anything,” Clint said. “I think I just got mugged by Koenigs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's pretend SHIELD is somewhat covert and the Triskelion is not HQ in this fic.  
> BettyCrocker.com - peanut butter blossoms, marbled sugar cookie cutouts, & double chocolate Nutella cookie truffles  
> Pillsbury.com - 3-ingredient sugar cookie truffles, triple chocolate thumbprint cookies, & melted snowmen cookies


	11. M&M Pudding Cookies, Oreo and Andes Mint Truffle Bars, Turtle Chocolate Chip Cookies, Easy Turtle Cookies, Chocolate-Stuff Gingerbread Cookies, & Easy Italian Christmas Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which baking is a nightmare

There weren’t enough M&Ms. How had he run out of M&Ms?

That was fine, he’d just order some and finish the dough later. The grocery delivery service was an awesome thing.

While he waited, he’d just start on the next recipe.

Where were the damn mini Oreos? He’d set them right _there_.

Not in any of the cupboards, not accidentally thrown away or in the sink or in any of the drawers. Not in the living room or the bedroom or the bathroom.

Fine. _Fine_. Order more of those too, goddammit.

Next recipe then.

At least he thought to check for the damn Rolos before he put the cookies in to bake.

Okay, order more of those.

Next recipe.

On a hunch, he looked for the turtle candies and Hershey bars before he even started mixing together any more ingredients.

WHERE WAS ALL THE DAMN CANDY?

Click, click, click. Order, order, order. Some poor delivery driver was getting a workout today.

He double- and triple-checked the last recipe. He had everything. Every-fucking-thing.

Finally.

Except…

Why wasn't there enough powdered sugar? He just had a full bag! What the actual-

“Clint?”

Clint raised his head. His back ached from being hunched over the table and his arm had fallen asleep. “Huh?”

“You were sleeping,” Phil said. “Not very happily, apparently.”

“Baking nightmare. Who knew that could happen?” He turned suddenly, wincing at the sharp pain in his neck as he did. “Shit, did I leave the oven on?”

“No, it looks like you were all done.” Phil waved a hand at the stacks of cookies in containers on the counter. “I think you overdid it a little.”

Clint sat up straight in his chair. “Fucking cookies. I am going to bed, where I am going to take a real nap and not think about cookies for the rest of the day.”

He was heading toward the door when Phil asked, “What about all of these?”

“Get rid of them. Courier them over to SHIELD or something. Call the Koenigs, I bet they’ll take care of it.” Clint went out the door, then popped back in. “Except for the gingerbread ones. You can save some of those.”

Clint left again, scowling. He didn’t know how bakers did it. He was starting to hate the sight of cookies. If he wasn’t so stubborn, he’d just quit the whole baking thing altogether.

On the other hand, he was doing pretty good, and he still had a few more days of recipes coming. One of them might be for actual gingerbread, not that pre-mixed stuff in a bag.

Well, never let it be said that Clint Barton was a quitter. Tomorrow he was going to kick some baking ass, even if it killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, 2 chapters in one day because I'm still trying to catch up, which is why this one is short, as well as being the obligatory 'it was all a dream' chapter.  
> BettyCrocker.com - M&M pudding cookies, turtle chocolate chip cookies, and chocolate-stuffed gingerbread cookies  
> Pillsbury.com - Oreo and Andes Mint truffle bars, easy turtle cookies, and easy Italian Christmas cookies


	12. Santa Hat Sugar Cookie Cups, Easy Nutella Cookie Roll-ups, Buckeye Fudge, 5-Ingredient Monster Cookies, Chocolate Sugar Cookie Crinkles, & Peanut Butter Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people come searching for Clint's cookies

Phil opened the door to a grinning Izzy Hartley and a stoic Victoria Hand.

“I heard there were cookies,” Izzy said cheerfully.

Hand shook her head slightly. “I apologize, Agent Coulson. I couldn’t talk her out of it.”

“Phil doesn’t mind, Vic,” Izzy said. “I come back from saving the world,” – Hand snorted – “or at least a small part of it, and everyone’s talking about Barton’s delicious cookies. Only there are none to be had because my fellow agents have cleaned them out.”

That explained Hand’s sour look – why would she want to detour for cookies when her wife had just returned after what was most likely an extended absence?

“You’re in luck,” Phil said. He stepped back and ushered them into the apartment. “We still have some from the ones Clint baked today. Kitchen’s through there.” He pointed them toward the swinging door.

Izzy bounced – there was no other word for it – ahead of them, leaving Phil and Hand to follow.

“I apologize again, Agent-“

“Please, call me Phil. We’re not at work right now.”

She nodded. “And you may call me Victoria. I apologize for intruding on your personal time. I told Izzy there would be more cookies tomorrow.”

“It’s not a problem. We have more than enough.”

They entered the kitchen just in time to hear Izzy say, “These are almost too cute to eat.” She was holding a cookie with a strawberry set on top of it. It was decorated with white icing to look like a Santa hat.

“You might has well take the rest of these with you,” Clint said. “I’ve eaten enough of them.”

“What else you got?” she asked. She took the strawberry off and popped it in her mouth.

Clint opened a nearby container. “Nutella roll-ups. You might have to fight Phil for those.”

“I’m willing to share,” Phil said. “One for each of you.”

“So magnanimous,” Izzy said, rolling her eyes a bit.

Clint grabbed another container. “Buckeye fudge – basically peanut butter and chocolate. There’s not too much of that left. Sitwell already stopped by and tried to clean us out.”

Phil almost missed the way Victoria perked up at the fudge. They would have to send the rest home with the two women – Clint wouldn’t miss it.

“Ah, monster cookies here,” Clint held up another couple of containers, “and chocolate sugar cookie crinkles here.”

“What are those?” Izzy pointed at a plate of cookies on the counter.

“Peanut butter blossoms. I baked some yesterday, so I didn’t make too many when the recipe came up for them again today. I figured those could be for guests or something.”

“Well, I wasn’t here yesterday, and I’m your guest, so…” Izzy waggled her eyebrows and Clint laughed.

“I’ll put together a cookie plate for you to take home. With plenty of peanut butter blossoms.”

From Victoria’s slight smile, Phil thought they were probably more for her than Izzy. Apparently she had a thing for peanut butter and chocolate.

“We appreciate the cookies, Agent Barton,” Victoria said. “As well as the time and effort you put into making them.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Izzy added.

Clint’s ears turned pink and he looked away with a little smile. “No problem. Just trying out new things, you know?”

“Yes. Well, we won’t keep you,” Victoria said with a pointed look at Izzy. “I’m sure you have better things to do than entertain coworkers during your downtime.”

Clint bit his lip and Phil could almost hear him saying _I see how it is, you just want me for my cookies_. Izzy would find it hilarious, but Victoria – well, she kept her sense of humor to herself and the one or two people she allowed into her personal life.

Phil quickly made up a plate of cookies for them while Clint and Izzy chatted. Victoria took it with a nod of thanks and then she was herding Izzy out of the kitchen and through the front door, leaving Clint reeling slightly from the suddenness.

“Wow, is Hand always in work mode?”

“She likes to keep her work and her home life separate.”

Clint nodded. “You gave them all the fudge? And the peanut butter blossoms? _And_ the Santa hats?”

“What? We weren’t going to eat them.”

“True. It’s kind of a relief that they’re gone. The cookies,” he added at Phil’s raised eyebrow. “Only a few more days ‘til Christmas and you’ll have your non-baking boyfriend back.”

“I like my baking boyfriend just fine.” Phil leaned down and gave Clint a lingering kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BettyCrocker.com - Santa hat sugar cookies cups, buckeye fudge, and easy chocolate sugar cookie crinkles.  
> Pillsbury.com - Easy Nutella cookie roll-ups, easy 5-ingredient monster cookies, and quick peanut butter blossoms (yes, peanut butter blossoms two days in a row - narratively)
> 
> Only a few more days left on the cookie countdown!


	13. No-Bake Christmas Wreath Cookies, 2-Ingredient Peanut Butter-Chocolate Truffles, Chocolate Snowballs, Cinnamon-Toffee Pecan Cookies, Peanut Butter Cookie Cups, and 3-Ingredient Secret-Center Cookie Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint goes to get his casts removed.

Clint wheeled himself down the hallway toward the elevator that would take him to Medical.

“Agent Barton,” someone called from behind him. He turned slightly and saw Sharon Carter jogging toward him.

“Hey, Agent Carter.” He waited for her to catch up to him.

“I heard today was a big day,” she said as she got closer, nodding at his legs.

“Yeah, the casts are going bye-bye,” he said. “I’m on my way to Medical right now.”

“I’ll walk with you,” she said. “I’m heading in that direction myself.”

“Sure,” he said. “Some company would be nice.” Clint didn’t really know Carter that well – they knew of each other, of course, but they didn’t work together very often.

The entered the elevator. Clint hit the button for Medical and the awkward silence began.

Carter fidgeted for a while, then said, “Bobbi mentioned that Agent Coulson was called away on an emergency meeting.”

“Yes?” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“And a lot of people you know are either at the same meeting or on vacation.”

“Uh-huh.”

“This doesn’t seem like the kind of thing anyone should have to do alone. So when I saw you, I thought I’d tag along.”

“Thanks.” Clint decided not to bring up the number of times he had done this on his own. To most people, it was a minor step in the recovery process, but Clint always had a moment of… not panic, exactly, but worry that something had gone wrong during the healing process and he would have to have surgery or get the bones reset. Company was better. He wondered how strongly Bobbi had hinted that he needed that company. “Appreciate it.”

“At least the casts are coming off in time for Christmas.”

Clint grinned. “It’s not really a present, but I’ll take it.”

Carter smiled and nodded and then the awkward silence took over again. It was turning into the Elevator Ride That Would Not End. Any minute now, he would open his mouth and stick his foot in it, which didn’t matter too much around his friends. They’d just ignore him or tell him to shut up, or if he really jammed it in there, have a Talk with him. Agent Carter would probably wallop him one, and he’d likely deserve it.

Any minute now…

“I’ve been enjoying the cookies. Along with everyone else.”

Oh thank God. “Good. That’s good.”

“I missed them today, though. Once they show up, you have to move fast or they’re gone.”

“I’ve been hearing that. I kinda thought other people would be bringing in stuff, too.”

Carter nodded. “We have been. But your cookies are really popular.”

Clint shrugged that off. “What did you bring?”

“Fudge. It’s a secret family recipe, so I can’t share it with you.”

Something in Carter’s voice made Clint look at her. She was holding back a smile and her eyes were full-on twinkling. Clint decided to play along.

“You can’t, huh? Not even if I promise not to tell anyone?”

“Well, if you promise…” Carter leaned down and whispered. “My mother got it out of the Betty Crocker cookbook.”

Clint laughed. “I won’t tell a soul.” A thought occurred to him and he reached for the bag on the back of his chair. “Here, since you missed the cookies today.” He pulled out the container he’d been saving for Phil. Phil wouldn’t miss them; there were still some left at home.

Carter took it and opened the lid. “I won’t say no. What did you bring today?”

“Christmas wreaths, those were no-bake. They’re kind of sticky. More peanut butter-chocolate truffles – I’m getting good at those. Um… chocolate snowballs, so there’s powdered sugar everywhere. Cinnamon-toffee pecan cookies. And peanut butter cookie cups and secret-center cookie cups. That’s it.”

Carter nodded. “So what’s the secret?”

“Huh?”

“In the cookies, what the secret center?”

It was Clint’s turn to lean close and whisper. “Mini candy bars.”

Carter nodded solemnly, her eyes twinkling again. “I won’t tell a soul.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “Here we are. You ready?”

Clint nodded. “I was born ready.” He rolled his chair out the elevator with enthusiasm. Carter rolled her eyes and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized when I started writing that I had no idea how well Clint and Sharon know each other in the comics and my 30 seconds of searching didn't pull up anything helpful, so I went with 'not very well'.
> 
> BettyCrocker.com - No-bake Christmas wreath cookies, chocolate snowballs (I actually made these!), peanut butter cookie cups  
> Pillsbury.com - 2-ingredient peanut-butter chocolate truffles, cinnamon-toffee pecan cookies, 3-ingredient secret-center cookie cups (and I already gave away the secret, sorry)


	14. Sugar Cookie M&M Bars, Easy Reindeer Cookies, Buckeye Cookies, Choco-Toffee Bars, Twix Cookie Bars, & Easiest-Ever Holiday Sugar Cookie Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are many bars but not many adult beverages.

 

The thing about cookie bars – bar cookies? Clint didn’t know – was that they were easy to stack. The sugar cookie bars with the sprinkles could go on top of the sugar cookie M&M bars, and the Twix cookie bars could go on top of the choco-toffee bars and that was a lot of bars with no adult beverages in sight.

Clint grabbed a beer from the fridge.

Anyway, stackable square cookies made storage a lot easier, and that left plenty of room in the containers for the buckeye cookies (it wasn’t real holiday baking unless chocolate and peanut butter were involved, apparently) and the futzing adorable reindeer cookies. Now all he needed was a helpful little elf to take them all to HQ and distribute them, because he was _tired_. Baking and exercising to regain the muscle tone in his legs were a bit much for him right now. Leaving the apartment was beyond him.

He was moving almost as slowly as he had with the casts on, but it was a relief to be able to collapse onto the couch without maneuvering himself out of the wheelchair. He could _bend his knees_.

Clint used the edge of the coffee table to pop the lid off his beer. He raised the bottle to his lips.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” he yelled.

“Sitwell,” said a familiar voice.

“Use your key,” Clint yelled back.

Jasper let himself in. He gave Clint an unimpressed look as he closed the door behind him. “I thought you didn’t like it when I used my key.”

“I literally just sat down. I’m not getting up again unless there’s a fire or something.”

“Fair enough.”

“I hope to hell you aren’t here to tell me Phil got sent on a last-minute thing again.”

“No,” Jasper said with a sigh. “But I have been.”

“Really.” And he had time to stop by for a visit before he left? “That sucks, man.”

“Yeah it sure does. I mean, Christmas and everything.” Jasper sighed again and shook his head. “Do you have any cookies? It would help ease my pain.”

Clint grabbed a magazine off the coffee table and chucked it at Jasper’s head, which he mostly evaded. “How are you so bad at lying?”

“Hey! Do you know how hard it is to get ahold of those cookies? Since you don’t need me to take them in anymore, I’m lucky to get my hands on one or two.”

Clint stared at him, a slow grin forming on his face.

“What?” Jasper backed up a step.

“Jasper, would you like to be my helpful Christmas elf and deliver cookies to all the good SHIELD boys and girls for me? You could have as many as you want then.”

“Just to the good ones? Sure, but that’s a lot of leftover cookies. I don’t need that many.”

“Are you going to take the damn things in or not?” At this point, Clint just wanted the cookies out of the apartment without having to take them anywhere himself.

Jasper cocked an eyebrow at him. “Whoa, I thought you’d be back to pre-injury levels of grumpy by now. Did they forget to remove the stick up your ass along with the casts?”

“Just take the cookies and get out of here.” Clint adjusted his grip on his beer bottle. Throwing it would be a bad idea. Not worth it. Possibly an overreaction.

“Please?” Jasper said expectantly.

“Please,” Clint gritted out through his teeth.

“Sure. In the spirit of Christmas.” Jasper smirked at him and disappeared into the kitchen. He came back out with stacks of cookie containers in his arms. “Don’t worry, many of these will find their way to HQ.”

Clint shrugged. “Thanks. Goodbye.”

Jasper shook his head. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

Clint grunted and Jasper laughed at him. After some maneuvering, he got the door open and left.

Clint finally drank his beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BettyCrocker.com - Sugar cookie M&M bars and buckeye cookies  
> Pillsbury.com - Easy reindeer cookies, choco-toffee bars, Twix cookie bars, and easiest-ever holiday sugar cookie bars
> 
> The Betty Crocker recipes stopped earlier than the Pillsbury ones. I am so close to being done! Just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to write :)


	15. Rocky Road Cookies, 5-Ingredient Salted Caramel Crumble Bars, Hot Chocolate-Marshmallow Cookies, & 3-Ingredient Brownie Batter Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint is victorious.

Christmas Eve. Clint was strangely excited for Christmas this year. Maybe because he wasn’t on a mission for the holiday, for the first time in years? Maybe it was the tree, which he and Phil had finally put up the day before (better late than never, right?). Was it the gift shopping? The Christmas music that was playing everywhere? Hell, maybe it was the shit-ton of cookies he’d been baking.

Whatever the reason, Clint whistled as he took the last of the cookies out of the oven. He had finally caught up – he had baked every single recipe from the cookie countdown emails, including the one he had gotten that day. It was a small, weird victory, but it was a victory.

“You’re in a good mood.” It was Fury. He’d stopped by with a gift for Phil and Clint, and he and Phil had been shooting the shit in the living room while Clint did the last of his baking.

Clint flashed a grin at him. “Cookies,” he said, as if that explained everything. Fury nodded as if it did.

“What do you have this time? Or are you gonna chase me out of the kitchen until everything’s ready?”

“Clint’s not some cranky grandma,” Phil said from behind Fury. “He’ll only chase you if you don’t take any cookies with you.”

“That sounds more like my grandmother,” Fury admitted.

“Here, you’ll like these,” Clint said, holding out a plate with rocky road cookies and hot chocolate-marshmallow cookies on it. He’d noticed Fury’s preference for marshmallow and chocolate.

Fury gave him a flat stare, but he took several cookies. Phil helped himself to one of the brownie batter cookies and Clint took one of the salted caramel crumble bars.

“Delicious,” Fury said after he’d demolished a couple of cookies. “Better than last year.”

Clint snorted. “That didn’t take much. I’m kinda disappointed I didn’t get a gingerbread recipe, though.”

“The internet’s a big place,” Fury said. “I’m sure there’s one on there somewhere.”

Clint shook his head – that wasn’t the point. Whatever, he’d met the baking challenge. He’d branch out into random recipes another time.

Phil patted him on the back. “Maybe after Christmas, if you ever feel like baking again.”

Fury chuckled. “There’s going to be a lot of disappointed agents at HQ if you decide never to bake cookies again, Barton.”

“We’ll see,” Clint said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t mind doing it every once in a while, I guess.”

“As much as I’d like to stay and eat some more of these,” Fury held up his last cookie, “I have a few more things to do before I get to go home.”

“Nick offered to take the cookies in to HQ,” Phil told Clint.

“I’m heading there next, thought I’d save you the trip.”

“Sure, let me get them ready.”

Soon Fury was out the door with a ‘Merry Christmas’, his arms full of cookies and a gift to unwrap in the morning.

Phil put his arms around Clint. “Want to watch _Die Hard_ and some other Christmas movies until we fall asleep?”

“Sure.” Clint kissed Phil softly, then smiled. “But we can’t stay up too late. Santa won’t come if we do.”

“That’s okay. If he doesn’t, I’ll make sure you get a present anyway,” Phil said with a waggle of his eyebrows, and Clint burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pillsbury.com - Rocky road cookies, 5-ingredient salted caramel crumble bars, hot chocolate-marshmallow cookies, and 3-ingredient brownie batter cookies.
> 
> Just a short epilogue and it's done!


	16. Epilogue: Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint does not bake.

Clint stepped away from the crowd of people filling their living room and pulled out his phone. Hopefully, there would be a reply to the email he’d sent to Barney – Barney changed addresses and phone numbers like socks, but he kept an email address to communicate with Clint every so often.

There was a reply, almost chatty by Barney’s standards, which managed to reveal precisely nothing of Barney’s whereabouts and current activities. Clint felt he was better off not knowing the details. At least Barney was alive and had been thinking about him -  enough to check that email account, enough to write back a cheerful little note – and was most likely not in jail. Clint was grateful for the small things when it came to his brother.

And even though he and his brother couldn’t spend Christmas together, Clint still had plenty of family around him. Natasha, Jasper, Bobbi, Melinda, and Andrew had all come to their potluck Christmas dinner. Hill had shown up too, although she’d had to leave as soon as she was done eating. Fury was going to stop by later. Clint and Phil had opened their gifts that morning, tearing the paper off like little kids. Phil had gotten Clint a book full of baking recipes, including a whole chapter on gingerbread. It was a good day.

Clint saved the email from Barney. He was about to close the app when he saw it.

Another cookie email. _Day 32: Raspberry Thumbprint Cookies_.

“What?” he muttered. The recipe emails were a countdown to Christmas, like an advent calendar. Advent calendars only go up to Christmas Eve; the cookie countdown should have ended _yesterday_. This was some kind of bonus recipe. And it wasn’t even gingerbread.

Clint stared at the email. Did it really matter that he hadn’t actually made every single recipe in the cookie countdown? He looked over at his friends. Andrew’s glass was raised in a toast and Natasha and Bobbi were laughing. Jasper dramatically clutched at his chest as if wounded by his words and Melinda was shaking her head, but she was smiling. Phil caught Clint’s eye and waved him over.

“Nope,” he told himself and rejoined the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Clint, I was a little surprised to get a recipe on Christmas Day, because I honestly thought the countdown ended on Christmas Eve. The raspberry thumbprint cookies are from Pillsbury.com
> 
> I wish I'd managed a chapter per day as intended and finished by Christmas, but I'm going to be happy with the fact that I did manage to finish, even if it's a little late. Happy 2018 everyone!


End file.
